


Audience of the Double Edge Sword

by Alazan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Affairs, Age Difference, Anger, Break Up, Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Infidelity, M/M, Magic, Male Slash, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Running Away, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:10:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alazan/pseuds/Alazan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's blond hair, blue eyes, and smile reminded him of Draco. Harry's smile, voice, and charm reminded him of Peggy. They were attracted by the nostalgia of the past and for a moment...they played with fire. The fire that seemed to have died for Steve and Tony as it had died for Harry and Clint.</p>
<p>The flames of their affair spark more than they could ever imagine though. More than they could ever believe. For fire is rage, it's passion, it's danger, it's hatred...where there is emotions there is fire...but what happens when the fire dies? What happens when the smoke clears and what was once there isn't there anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audience of the Double Edge Sword

**Author's Note:**

> I did have an account on FF.Net but I've moved to AO3 because it's just a bit better, formatting wise. It gives us more options and room with summaries, relationships, and well...yeah.
> 
> I wrote this so long ago. I think at the time the Avengers had barely come out. So obviously the "science" in this is based on assumptions and stuff before any of the sequels after the Avengers came out, so please excuse anything that doesn't make sense xD

 

_Clint's P.O.V.:_

I can't really remember when it started...

I try to think back, all the way back, but I just can't see it. Fury had been very adamant about this latest project of some of his best eggheads. He had me and the others working overtime. Day and night, night and day. I suppose it could have started then but I can't be sure.

Stark and his genius with the help of Banner, Mr. Fantastic, Ant Man and the Wasp created this...thing. I tried to understand it but it all flew over my head. Nothing but scientific mumbo jumbo. But I was there when it was activated. There was static, this thing was in a cube shape[what was it with cubes?] it hovered, and it glowed white and then there was a flash...and a pulse. It destroyed the lab and shut off the power in all of New York for about five whole minutes before they got the generators to work again. The pulse also threw them all back with this invisible force. Like a fireless explosion.

From the readings S.H.I.E.L.D and Jarvis did, the pulse had gone all throughout the world. Possibly even farther. All I know is that since that day on, the activity of villains hasn't been so super. We haven't heard from Thor either so we assume that whatever it was the eggheads created had closed and locked up whatever open door there used to be between Earth and any other world.

There seemed to be some odd after effect on the superheroes and super villains of the earth. This pulse, which I overheard Stark bragging to Richards, was an experiment of his in order to cure Bruce of the Hulk. I haven't heard much from Banner since the pulse so maybe it's true. Maybe he _was_ cured. It seemed like any superpowers not gained naturally were being removed from the person.

At the very least, the villains we faced were far easier to deal with and not as clever. But there were still villains. _And_ war. _And_ politics. Because _that_ was never ending.

That meant eventually I had more time to be at home with Harry. My Harry. God how I missed him. We've been together for about six years...it took me what seemed forever to get him to agree to a single date. And when I finally nabbed him, gods I was _so_ happy. Never in my life had I been happier...

That seemed like forever ago though.

With not as many super villains running around, I've developed a sort of nine to five and have been able to go home much earlier than I used to. However there seems to be no point since every day for the past month or so I've gone home to an empty apartment.

I don't bother turning on the lights even though the sun had already set and there was no other light source. My eyes were like a hawk's, hence the alias. I place my things in the closet... _my_ closet, where basically all of my things were. I don't even know who it was but slowly, one item at a time, everything began to move to that closet. Being the spy that I am, old habits die hard, so there wasn't much to move anyway.

As I walked through the halls to the bathroom I remember plenty of my missions and my life as a child. My father was a drunk and my mother didn't care, so I never had anything of value to begin with. I only had my life and even that didn't seem that valuable. In the circus even less so.

Even though the people who go to watch have this 'innocent' thought about the circus, behind the scenes it wasn't like that. There was no honor, no respect, not when I was there. But unlike my brother I was taken under the wing of criminals so I didn't have the best reputation ever. The stares I got from being a carnie were always judgmental, but they soon turned to glares. So I lost everything, even my brother. And since then...since forever, I've had to run. And when you run, you don't take anything with you and anything you do take was disposable and replaceable.

I had thought Harry changed all that. For a time, he did.

Our relationship had once been new and exciting. Harry, for all his wanting out of the spotlight of being famous, just couldn't get enough of danger. So when he had the chance to have the safe life of basically becoming his parents and marrying the redheaded girl from his school, getting that desk job that was waiting for him no matter what since he saved them, his parents money, and house there waiting, while he settled for a quiet life as a married man with the next big adventure being to change nappies.

Harry ran and jumped the pond and landed in New York.

I don't even remember who it was we were fighting at the time I first met Harry, but some super villain was terrorizing the city and when I arrived to help some civilians there he was. A hero in his own right, defending civilians and fighting bad guys. Since I was the highest ranked agent there it had fallen to me to find out more about this mysterious person.

It was once my favorite mission.

I got to know him. He got to know me. There was an interest. There had been a spark. He was witty and charming and I was crude and perverted. A few drinks later and we were in an alleyway making out as if our lives depended on it.

It used to be so raw and passionate, it makes me hard just thinking about it.

As we made out, Harry's hands wondered into my pants. He unleashed me and lowered his own pants and turned around and leaned against the wall. I prepped him as much as I could before we both just got so impatient and we went at it. It was dirty, loud, sloppy, drunk, but oh so satisfying.

The next few times we saw each other it was with this odd _need_. As soon as one flirting attempted was given, we would excuse ourselves and fuck like bunnies.

We moved in together in a small apartment, wanting to be away from the Avengers and what not. We didn't want to be reminded of our night jobs. We wanted the illusion of something normal. Something stable. That little island of hope in the middle of the sea of torment and chaos.

Maybe that was when it started. Maybe that was our mistake. We were never meant for normality. We were born to be warriors. A warrior in time of chaos is a hero. A warrior in time of peace is nothing.

Normality was peaceful. Harry ran away from normality once...why had I not seen that?

Harry was somewhat recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D and by somewhat I mean that he works along side us when trouble rises but doesn't answer to Fury. Harry had enough of being controlled by higher ups. So long as Fury had eyes and ears on him and he wasn't a threat, Fury let Harry be.

It was fine at first. We'd fuck like bunnies at night after a mission or a day at work, and text and call each other in the day.

I would decline missions in favor of paper work to not be sent out over seas and only went when absolutely needed.

We had a system and it seemed to work.

Harry met the Avengers, of course he did. They all seemed to get along for the most part. Natasha had her ice-cold way about her and maybe I should have listened to her warning looks. She was never one to say anything since it wasn't her problem, but she was my partner and it was our job to have the other's back. I suppose I just wanted to hold on to Harry for as long as possible.

And even now, I can't remember how it happened or when.

Before Stark finished his invention of his, he and the other eggheads locked themselves a lot in their labs. They were determined to finish it and maybe that's when Rogers began to stray from Stark. But I saw it from Stark's point of view rather than Rogers. Rogers was determined to make a name for himself in this time. To not be a burden and at the same time he'd rather fight crime than try to embrace this new world that was way too different from his own.

But just cos he was a super soldier didn't mean he was invincible. Stark wanted to complete this to make the world safer for him. Just like I did more late nights and more paper work to have more time for Harry...or at the least not be shipped out on some overly long term mission that would last years. And maybe in that time that was when Harry began to stray from me.

The point is that neither me or Stark realized until after that pulse. Our lovers were never home when we got there. There stopped calling and texting us regularly like they used to.

I'd walk through New York streets, a pedestrian among hundreds more, trying to clear my head. Then I heard his voice on night.

Harry, my Harry...he was sitting in a restaurant, out in the patio since it was nice out, across from Rogers, laughing, sharing a joke, smiling...

My chest ached painfully and I froze. I knew Harry's features like I knew the back of my hand. I pulled my cap down to cover my face and I walked on.

It wasn't a date. It wasn't a date.

It. Was. _Not_. A. Date.

…

I used to be a better liar.

* * *

 

 

Snapping out of my thoughts I realize I'm standing in the dark bathroom. Leaning on the sink for support, there is little light from outside but I can still see my features. Sorrow and self hatred swell inside of me.

I usually never cared about looks. They were important at times, and I knew I wasn't ugly, but when you have a much younger lover you become very self conscious. Even more for when I compare myself to Rogers. He was taller, looked younger, and was blonder.

I turned on the lights and frowned at my reflection. I noticed the wrinkles immediately and the bags under my eyes from working late hours and being unable to sleep. Being blonde makes the grays and whites not too noticeable but I saw them anyway.

I was old. I kept getting old. I am old.

I turn off the lights and head to the bedroom and strip down to my boxers and get into bed. I get in the position we've had for a while now. I lay on my side, facing the window, my back turned to him.

I close my eyes and force myself to try to sleep but I don't sleep.

It's about 9 at night and I'm in bed, pretending to sleep for no one and wait for Harry to return. He comes back at around 11:30. He doesn't eat[they had dinner], he doesn't watch TV[they went to a movie], he goes straight for the shower[to wash away evidence] and he's in there for an hour, three minutes, and seven seconds, eight seconds, nine seconds.

'click'

One hour, three minutes, and ten seconds.

There's movement on the bed as Harry lays in under the covers. I don't move but I know that Harry knows I'm awake. We lay there in the dark...in silence.

Harry doesn't say goodnight anymore.

* * *

 

I lay there until I hear his soft snores. I get up and change quickly and quietly. I stand there for a moment and wonder what the hell happened to us.

Shaking my head from those unanswered thoughts, I leave the apartment with the stealth that S.H.I.E.L.D hired me for. This too had become routine.

I'd walk towards the bar. It was a simple bar that was closed during most of the day and opened in the evening and stayed open all night. When I entered the smell of smoke and grilled food assaulted me.

I recognized some faces, others were new. Some people smoked, some played pool, other shot darts, some played cards, and almost everyone was drinking. Some of the patrons were friends on a night out, others were like me and were there to just forget. I took my regular seat at the bar and ordered my first drink of the night.

Many were to follow.

This was part of the routine as well.

Sometime into the night, I don't know how long since I stopped counting time, he sits next to me. He doesn't say another to me. He just orders his drink and we drink glass after glass after glass.

An hour or so later I look over to him and I examine him. What did I expect to see? I don't know but what I saw was probably a close reflection to myself despite how opposite of the spectrum we are. Stark's eyes have always had bags under them since he was a genius insomniac but these were different. Maybe because the spark of scientific wonder wasn't in his eyes. Nothing but depression and pain. His hair being dark made it easy for anyone to tell the grays and I'm a bit surprised he doesn't dye them...

Stark was an iconic figure...he always seemed immortal in my eyes for some reason. If it wasn't for our situation I probably would have never noticed but I saw it as clear as day. The great Tony Stark was aging...

Stark was old. I was old.

We were old and it showed.

Stark was used to hiding his emotions just as much as me but there were different levels. As a trained agent I hid my emotions all the time as I saw fit. Stark had this arrogant way about him so when he was angry or pissed he allowed himself to show that part of himself.

So he paid for my drinks and got up and I followed him. In the shadows of the night, in the cold streets, and back alley he punched me. It was unexpected and then he did it again until I fell down and then he started kicking. And I let him. I was angry too, but also lost and depressed. So I let him beat me up just so I would feel a pain I could understand. A pain I could treat.

He stopped soon enough and I closed my eyes. I heard the wind between the buildings, the cars as they drove by, the alarms of cars going off, and Stark's heavy panting.

When I opened them again I saw that his arm was out stretched towards me and he helped me up. I accept it and his driver picks him up. He holds the door open for me but I shake my head and start walking. My body aches but it's nothing I don't end up with in training with Natasha. It's actually less. I walk around the city, getting lost. I observe it all and force myself not to think about anything personal. I think back to Stark fighting me. I recreate his moves in my mind and force myself to re-see them again even in the dark. With each memory I concentrate on the ache on my body where a blow landed.

I do this until the sun comes up.

I go back to my apartment... _our_ apartment, and shower and get ready for work.

He's still asleep as I quietly get ready. Once I am I just stare at him for a moment before heading out the door.

I don't say goodbye.

I can't say goodbye to him. Not yet.

* * *

 

The second time Stark and I drank and then went out into the dark alley I fought back. I wasn't surprised this time and I've had time to think about it all. Stark was angry because it was true...it had to be true and we were there because we wanted to keep pretending it wasn't. So we drank, Stark would pay, we'd go outside and Stark would get the first punch and then we'd fight. I was just as angry as Stark so I landed quite a few blows myself.

Then we would just stop and we would support each other so we don't topple over and we'd pant into the night, never speaking.

No, words were evil, words confirmed, and silence denied. Quiet was good, quiet meant everything was as it should be...but it wasn't.

Stark would drive away and I would walk around New York.

* * *

 

The next time I see Stark at the bar again I was only three drinks in but he doesn't join me. He throws a bill towards the bar tender and then drags me outside. He begins to punch me with so much anger I'm shocked. He grabs me by my shirt and slams me against the wall hard. A passing car lets me catch a good glance of him and my knees nearly give in. But he has me against the wall and isn't letting go so I can't fall. Stark was _so_ angry, he was seething. And he was in pain...so much pain it _hurt me_. It hurt more because I could only guess as to _why_ he was so angry.

I hear him choke back a sob as he loosens his grip. He leans his head against my chest and his shoulders shake. I tense a bit and I really have no idea of what I'm supposed to do. He crumbles to the floor and I go down with him and hold him. He's so vulnerable and my protective instincts kick in and I hold him close and try to shush him but it's Tony fucking Stark I'm dealing with. He pushes me away and stands and pulls me up by the collar and slams me against the wall again and he just stares at me for a very long moment.

His stare is intense and I should have looked away...

I wanted to, a small part, but the bigger part of me just told me to stand my ground and so I did. Even when he leaned in closer, I didn't look away nor move away.

He licked his lips and I mimicked him and numbly realized that my lips were very dry and chapped. When he slammed his lips on mine...I wasn't surprised. I had seen it coming and yet I didn't move away. He moved to kiss and suck on my neck as his hands wonder, not gentle whatsoever and I'm glad. I don't want gentle. I want _raw_. I want _physical_. And those greedy, rough, calloused hands run down my chest and find my jeans and soon he's on his knees looking up at me and my breath hitches and I _stare_ at him. He's silently daring me...silently pleading me to tell him to stop. I _should_ tell him to stop. I really _really_ should.

But I don't.

He unleashes me from my boxers and begins his task. I watch, somewhat drunk, somewhat dazed. How long as it been since I've felt this sort of touch? I moan and pant as I disappear into his mouth and I can't help it as I buck into his mouth a bit. I tried to keep still but he takes me in deeper and I buck more, sort of fucking his mouth and the thought and sight drive me crazy. "Fuck!"

I don't last long since it's been my first time in some time. I cry out his name as I came.

He gets up and he smashes his lips to mine again. It was raw, and hard, and the farthest thing from loving and it's just what we wanted. He moved away and we look at each other. He turns his face and spits, wipes his mouth, and walks away.

I stay and lean against the wall trying to compose myself and regain my breath. I tuck myself in and start my usual walk.

That was when Stark became Tony.

* * *

 

Harry begins to wear turtle necks and sweaters and can't meet my eyes anymore. I sigh, and when I look in the mirror in the morning as I shave I see the profound wrinkles and gray hairs.

When was the last time I slept for more than an hour?

When was the last time Harry and I had a conversation?

I can't remember and I can't find the guts to start one. I love Harry and I'm sure if we have a conversation now, it'll end things. And considering what I'm doing with Stark and what he's doing with Rogers...we _should_ talk.

Damn it all if I just _can't_ do it.

* * *

 

I didn't realize I was walking around angry. I thought I hid it well, but apparently not. It changed however. I didn't have a frown anymore, or the tension in my shoulders, and I actually managed to laugh genuinely at a joke someone at S.H.I.E.L.D made. It was all because of Tony.

Our...relationship[?] changed again. From merely drinking silently next to one another, to beating the shit out of one another, it changed yet again.

I'd go to the bar and start drinking without him like always. He'd get there but he wouldn't drink anymore. He'd pay for me and then drag me outside. But instead of going into the back alley to fight or...whatever, he pushed me into his car.

He drove himself from then on. And we ended up parked in the back parking lot of some fancy hotel where we'd use the back entrance. He'd sneak a bill into an employees hand and they'd give him a key.

In the elevator he would crush his lips against mine again and it was raw and angry. I was drunk, so I was sloppy and not as coordinated as I should have been, so I fumble but we'd get to his room and he shoves me inside and onto the bed.

He stripped and straddled me and shoved me onto my back and took charge. I responded with equal heated, angry passion. That's what it was. Angry fucking.

We used up all of our anger in those sessions so that when we're at S.H.I.E.L.D we're lighter. I didn't think the change would be too dramatic but I've notice the stares. They aren't accusing but they _are_ mostly professional agents. It wasn't their business to care. But if they saw what was between me and Tony who were pros at hiding our emotions then they must have seen what was going on with Rogers and Harry since Harry being at S.H.I.E.L.D was a regular occurrence since he came here for training.

It was subtle for me and Tony though. He would make a joke and I would laugh. He'd need a tool and I'd pass it over. I'd be in the rec room and I'd bring him one of his favorite donuts if I saw they had any. It wasn't every day but it still happened.

At nights I'd go to the bar and drink and he'd pick me up. We'd go to the hotel and we'd fuck. I'd fall asleep and when I woke up early in the morning, Tony would be gone. I'd walk home, take a shower, and go to work.

* * *

 

Criminal activity would rise and fall at random. Some times I was too busy to meet up with Tony, sometimes I had nothing to do but drink until Tony had time for me.

I saw Harry at home more often but didn't really think much of it. We'd have lunch and dinner sometimes but it was either silent or basic conversation that almost seemed _too_ forced.

I would continue to leave around midnight to go drink and meet with Tony. We'd fuck, I'd fall asleep, wake up alone, walk home, shower, and go to work.

It was like that for weeks.

* * *

 

Angry fucking with Tony was so... _intense_.

I liked it. I _really_ liked it.

It was action, it was instinct, and I didn't have to think about it too much. But things changed and I seem to be blinded when these things happen now.

On one fateful night I didn't drink and just waited for Tony. We got to the hotel and the night carried on. It was Tony this time who fell asleep and I laid awake staring at the ceiling.

_What had I done?_

Tonight we didn't fuck. It wasn't angry. It wasn't fueled by hatred.

It was still passionate, no doubt about that, but...I made _love_ to Tony, not fucked him.

And I have no idea what the hell that meant.

I didn't even sleep or bother trying to. I got dressed and was the first one to leave.

* * *

 

I was coming to terms with my relationship with Harry coming to an end soon. It was only a matter of time before he or I would say those dreadful words of "we need to talk." I guess I must have stopped caring if my main thought was what would that mean for me and Tony. Our... _relationship,_ was based on the anger of our lover's affair. Or...it used to. I think back to last night and wonder what the fuck is happening to my life.

I lay in bed again. In my position like normal and wait for Harry to come home, get in bed, fall asleep, so I can sneak out. It was routine now. It was what we are now. So I lay there in my boxers, breathing evenly, staring at the window and listening to the outside world that was New York City. I pass the time by feeling the aches and pains on my body and remembering how I got them. Rogers knows now, I'm sure, if training is any indication. I've become his new favorite target and Tony's new favorite thing to protect. The anger between the three of us rivals the Hulk's. Huh...I haven't thought about the Hulk in awhile now. I kind of miss Bruce.

10:45 PM Harry comes in and I am a bit shocked. That was earlier than usual. He goes to the bathroom but his shower isn't as long as it usually is. He climbs in bed and under the covers and I tense. I don't know why. I don't know what to do when I suddenly have the thought of, 'please don't.' pass through my mind.

I feel him shift and I feel him hovering over me a bit. I clench my eyes shut very tight. He tentatively places a hand on my shoulder and spoons with me. I tense and my breath hitches a bit.

"Goodnight Clint." he whispers and cuddles close to me.

I should return it. It would mean things aren't over. It means things could go back like how they were before.

My throat tightens and I don't say anything.

He doesn't let go and neither of us fall asleep. I usually fall asleep cos my body is worn out from sex with Tony, but I didn't have that tonight and I hear Harry's breathing so I know he's awake.

I don't know if he's waiting for me to say it back or what but neither of us sleep.

I get out of bed at 5 AM and head to work.

* * *

 

Tony cornered me in the rec room and we were alone. Before he could say anything I defended myself. I don't know why, but it just came out, "Harry didn't sleep."

Maybe it was my imagination when I saw him sigh in relief. He quickly composed himself and pointed to the box of donuts. "Any powdery ones?"

I pass over the box and head to training.

* * *

 

I end up at the bar again and this time Tony joins me for a single drink. We get in his car, rush and anger really gone now, and drive to the hotel.

In the elevator we make out but that heat that was once raw is now caring. As the lift continued to rise and we're alone, he mumbled against my lips, "I thought I ruined this too..."

I shook my head but didn't reply. I hate words. Why did everyone have to speak all of the sudden? Why couldn't everyone just stay quiet? I shut him up by kissing him.

I leave first again.

Still no sleep.

* * *

Training was brutal. Rogers pushed me off a ledge and I landed rather harshly. He and Tony got into a whispered argument that seemed heated. Then they stormed off in opposite direction and training was canceled. Natasha helped me limp toward the medical ward where they patched me up and told me to rest my sprained ankle. If I stay off of it, it'll heal up soon.

I sighed as I realized I'd be home for a while and probably won't be able to meet with Tony. I get home and lie in bed with my ankle elevated.

Harry came home rather early...well, I assume it's early. I haven't been home during the morning in such a long time I don't know his routine anymore. His breath catches and he leans on the door frame.

"Hey..."

I nod to him, "Hi."

"How are you feeling?" he asks as he comes and sits on the bed.

"I've had worse," I reply with a shrug.

He nods, "Can I get you anything?"

I shake my head, "Don't worry about me. You go do whatever you have to do."

He wants to say something but bites his lips and says quietly, "I do worry about you. And I've got nothing to do at the moment and you're hurt...you're...you're my lover Clint. I have to take care of you."

"I'm okay Harry." I tell him and it's not warm or inviting but stiff and guarded.

When did I need to guard myself from Harry?

* * *

 

Harry makes me lunch and brings me things and we have small talk. He reminds me that's he's witty and I remember why I fell for him but...god he looked so young. He was acting like a child who upset his parent and wanted to make amends for being a brat. That thought tore me up more than I thought it would. With some slight pain I make it to the bathroom and see myself and I notice so very clearly that I am well into my 40's while Harry's barely entering his 30's.

Later at night when we're in bed, the first time in months since we've gone to bed together, he snuggles up close to me. He bites his lip and looks up at me. He cups my face and kisses me.

I should be ecstatic, but I'm not. He tries to deepen the kiss and his hands wonder south. By now I would be aroused very badly. Or at the very least half hard, but I'm not. I hear him make a sound that might have sounded like a sob deep in his throat and he tried to stroke me into hardness but I place my hand over his to stop him. I move back and lick my lips. They were so dry.

"I...not tonight...I...I can't tonight."

His eyes are bright as they glisten with unshed tears. He nods but curls up against me. His head under my chin and laying on my chest. I lightly wrap my arm around him but it's different from before. It's not protective or loving. It's just there and he whispered, "Goodnight Clint. I love you."

My throat constricts and my stomach churns.

"Goodnight Harry."

If he held on to me a little tighter, I didn't comment.

* * *

 

My ankle healed up pretty fast and soon I was back at work. I avoided Rogers and Tony and helped trained some of the new recruits.

Harry began to become more affectionate but I was so fucking confused I didn't want to read too much into it. I didn't want to know what was his relationship with Rogers like. I just didn't want know.

He's tried to be intimate with me but I just can't get it up with him anymore. I'm too tired when I'm with him. Nothing is fueling me. I slam my locker when I realized I had given up with Harry. I saw too many differences. In age, in interest, in worlds.

Tony though...he was closer to my age. He understood my references and countered my perverted jokes with his own. When he touched me...even the thought of it, woke up Clint Jr.

I sighed and continued with my work.

* * *

 

Tony didn't fall asleep this time and I held him similar to the way I've been holding Harry. Except our bodies were entangled, sweaty, covered in our fluids, and the musky scent of sex was in the air.

"We could run you know." He drawls casually.

I chuckle and smirk, "I'm one of best agents S.H.I.E.L.D has and you're Tony fucking Stark _and_ Iron Man. We won't get far. They would look for us and they'd find us."

"Eventually maybe...but we'd still have a few years." Tony whispered and looked up at me. I looked down at him and my eyes widened.

"You're serious."

He smiles a bit, "Yes, I am."

"Tony...they'd find us. Where would we go? We can't just pack up one day and disappear."

"There's a mission and you're flying the plane. We're over enemy territory so they can't get footage via satellite and we go down and that will be our window of opportunity."

"They'll think we've been captured if we survived..." I say dumbly.

"Let them think that."

"What about your company?" I asked.

"Pepper will take charge but everything of mine will be on heavy lock down. My accounts, my data, my tower, my suits...everything. Clint...we can do this. We can." he sounded so sure.

"They'll look..." I repeat.

"I know...I know it won't be forever but...I want to try...I like this...okay? I like being just Tony and...not forever, just for a little while." Tony begged.

I scoffed, "How will we get what we need? If we're going by your ideas then we'll be behind enemy lines."

"Uh duh, you're one of best agents S.H.I.E.L.D has and I'm Tony fucking Stark _and_ Iron Man." he repeated my words with a mock smirk. "We'll survive."

I laugh and fall back against the pillows and he leans over me.

"What about Steve and Harry?" I ask and I see him tense.

"They led us to this Clint. We shouldn't feel guilty." Tony said.

"I don't feel guilty. I should but I really don't. I just feel old." I admit.

He sighs and lays down next to me, "Don't I know it..."

Our hands meet and our fingers intertwine and we lay in silence staring at the ceiling.

* * *

"Clint?"

I was working on some reports in the living room and looked up at Harry voice.

"Yes?"

"I've got some take out." he lifted and showed me some Chinese.

"I've got to finish these reports," I say.

He sits down next to me and kisses my cheek, "They can wait. You'll waste away if you don't eat."

I sigh and placed the files down and turn to face him, "Harry...I think we need to-"

He kisses me hard. When he moves back his eyes are downcast and he whispers, "Not tonight... _please_. Please just... _not_ tonight."

I sigh but nod. He kisses me again but I don't respond. We open the cartons and we settle in. We turn on the television and watch _Doctor Who._ He leans into me and we eat in silence.

* * *

 

"Barton!"

I looked up to the higher deck where Fury came into view. "Sir?"

"I've got a mission for you. Come up."

I dismiss the recruits and meet up with the Director on deck. "We've got reports of highly dangerous activity overseas. We want you to check it out."

I nod, "Who will I be going with?"

"Stark's been restless and kindly volunteered." Fury replied sarcastically and rolled his eye.

I tried not to tense too much but I immediately was assaulted by Tony's words from a few nights ago. He couldn't possibly be thinking...

"Anyone else?" I ask.

"Do you _need_ anyone else?" The Director asked and eyed me carefully.

"If it's just to gather intelligence, no, I don't think so." I reply and he nodded.

"You two head out in the morning. Unless you want to do paperwork instead. I can always send Widow. She seems to be able to handle Stark just fine."

I gulped. This was happening. I doubt Fury knows or cares about what's happened with our personal lives so long as it doesn't interfere with work. But it now fell on my choice. Do I go with Tony and possibly disappear for the next few years or do I stay and do paperwork and remain with Harry?

* * *

 

Steve was walking up to the top deck with Hill, getting briefed on one of his latest missions when Black Widow came up to them.

"Barton's jet's gone off the radar. We have no signal and we've lost contact."

Steve's eyes widened. "Tony..."

He ran ahead and looked at the monitors that held information. Some he understood, others he had no clue. He tried to find his lover on one of them but couldn't find him.

* * *

Harry was washing the dishes when he hears a crash. He goes and looks and sees that a picture of Clint and himself on one of their dates had fallen and the glass broke. Clint's picture was pierced.

* * *

" _This is CNN with breaking news! Iron Man A.K.A. Tony Stark has been shot down behind enemy lines along with his pilot!"_

" _This is FOX news with the latest. Virginia Potts CEO of Stark Industries has completely taken over Stark Industries since Tony Stark is M.I.A."_

" _CBS has reporters close to where Tony Stark has fallen and it seems there may be a chance he was taken in by the enemy... **if** he survived the crash."_

* * *

" _If he survived the first time and came out with Iron Man, how long until Tony Stark makes another flashy come back?" Asked the host of the news show._

" _Well the last time he was held hostage he was given room to work. Who doesn't know of Iron Man now? The question right now is: will they let him near technology?" her partner asked._

* * *

" _Will Iron Man rise again?"_

" _Who was the pilot with him? Is_ **he** _alive?"_

" _Iron Man...where are you now?"_

* * *

Fin


End file.
